


Don't play with Hellfire

by Zeckarin



Series: And they were roomates... (but there were two beds) [30]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Adam Young Still Has Powers (Good Omens), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Protective Crowley, Queerplatonic Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Sentient Bookshop (Good Omens), other tags to come...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:20:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23366848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeckarin/pseuds/Zeckarin
Summary: Adam learns something new and very cool.Then he learns that every action comes with consequences...
Relationships: Aziraphale & Adam Young (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale & The Them (Good Omens), Crowley & Adam Young (Good Omens)
Series: And they were roomates... (but there were two beds) [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1523585
Comments: 81
Kudos: 188
Collections: My faves - Good Omens Whump





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had that story in my head for a few months now... I hope you'll like it!  
> Tags will be added in next chapter, ha ha^^

It was all Crowley’s fault.

Even if Aziraphale argued time and again that it _wasn’t_ , the demon knew it was. He knew what had started all this shit. That bloody cigarette, on that bloody spring day. First time the evening had been so warm in months. he’d been so fucking relieved to feel winter’s cold finally running away, he had to step out of the shop, lean against his darling car, and light a stupid cigarette. Celebration of a sort, his cold-blooded nature basking in the fading sun.

Of course he knew it wasn’t a good example (that was one of the main reasons he’d started after all), and he didn’t even smoke that often. But it looked somewhat cool, and the gesture was soothing, and bless it all, he didn’t even remember why he’d chosen to smoke this day. Anyway, that’s when it happened. He lighted it with the tip of his finger, and heard a delighted gasp.

He’d choked, and thrown the cigarette away, but it was too late. Adam was there, and not in his bath as he was supposed to be, and he looked at him like he’d never seen anything cooler in his life. Crowley had felt flattered.

Then of course, he’d panicked, because smoking wasn’t supposed to be cool to eleven years old, and Aziraphale would skin him alive if their Godson and his friends ever try it because of him.

“Oi, don’t look at me like that! It’s bad! It’s very bad! I’m a demon remember? This thing is poison to humans, so don’t even think about trying it. I’m serious. I’ll kick your ass if I ever catch you at it, even in fifty years!”

Adam had smiled. “I know smoking is bad, uncle Crowley. I’m not stupid.”

Then he’d finally decided to take that bloody bath, and had left the demon wondering if he did or didn’t just got insulted. He had the nagging feeling he had been, and that was making him proud.

Maybe, would he think in a not-so-far future, maybe he should have wondered why Adam had seemed so enthusiastic that day if he thought smoking was not cool. Maybe he would have realised it wasn’t the cigarette that had fascinated the kid that much.

He didn’t, though. And Adam got back home with a brand new trick to show to his friends.

Too little information is a very dangerous thing. Sometimes, it’s even more dangerous than no information at all, and a little girl named Pepper was about to find that out.

It wasn’t her fault, that was the worst part. She was about to do the most clever and responsible thing, and her quick mind would probably save a life, but had she had all the information, nobody would have been hurt.

See, the Them knew about Armageddon (they had been the ones to stop it, after all) and they also knew about Antichrists, angels and demons. They were perfectly aware of their leader’s Godfathers’ true nature. They knew Crowley was a demon, and that he could turn into a serpent. They knew Aziraphale was an angel you could bribe into almost anything with a soft ice cream, and that both were immortal beings.

That’s where their knowledge was lacking. Immortal, in that instance, did mean that they couldn’t be _killed_. Not that they couldn’t be destroyed.

Had she known, Pepper wouldn’t have been so enthusiastic at seeing her best friend’s new trick. Making a flame dance at the tip of your fingers was awesome. Playing with a loaded gun not so much, and she would have seen it.

Now here they were, asking Adam to show more, to make the flame brighter, to make it dance faster, with two very important information out of reach. To Pepper, who had once been told that in case of emergency she should call out for a particular angel, it was the knowledge that this little trick could destroy Aziraphale.

To Adam, who’d never truly discussed that subject with Crowley, it was the understanding that Hellfire had a will of its own.

  
  


* * *

It all happened very quickly. The Hellfire, getting bored, tried to escape. Hellfire was always like this, and demons were prepared to rein it in when they summoned it. Adam wasn’t. He had never tried to handle it before, and was not expecting that. Of course he was the most powerful being on Earth, and could have stopped it with a thought. But he was also a child, with humans reactions, and the little friendly flame escaping his hand and brusquely transforming into a roaring furnace scared him for a few seconds.

Hellfire isn’t a demonic weapon without reason. It aimed at the nearest living creature, ready to burn.

Brian froze on the spot, Dog barked and leaped at the enemy, trying without success to bite it, Wensley screamed, and Pepper, remembering Crowley’s advice some time ago, thought of the angel, her mind yelling _HELP ME!_.

The fire was almost on Brian when a gush of wind made the trees shudder around the clearing, and white wings deployed in front of the boy like a shield. The flames hit something invisible, hard, and roared angrily at the obstruction, pushing against it to get to their new prey, wilder than ever now they could sense angelic warmth right in front of them, almost within reach.

“ **ADAM, STOP IT!** ” yelled a voice none of the Them recognised. It didn’t sound human, and it was like several melodic voices melting together. Adam shook himself out of his stupor, gasped, and wished the fire away.

For a few seconds, nobody spoke, and Aziraphale lowered his shaking hands, the barrier of Grace he had used fading out, then he slowly folded his wings into another plane, and his skin stopped shining like a lightbulb. He turned to look at Brian in anguish. “Are you all right, my dear? Did it touch you? Did it touch any of you?”

The three children shook their heads, and Dog growled quietly. No one seemed to care that _he_ had touched the fire, and even if of course Hellfire couldn’t hurt him, it was a little offensive, in his opinion.

Once he was reassured about the human children’s safety, Aziraphale turned stiffly towards Adam with wide eyes, his expression a mix of shock, disappointment and anger. The boy looked at his feet, his heart clenching, still too shaken to think properly. The angel’s eyes were blazing, a clear ice blue that Adam had learn to associate to angelic wrath. It was the first time it was directed at him, though, and the child felt an awful feeling grow in his chest.

“Adam, this was… why did you do this? Hellfire is not a game! You could have… _why_ did you do this?” he thundered, the slightest echo of his angelic voice still at the edge of his human one.

“I… I didn’t know it could do that, I swear! I thought it was just like normal fire!” cried the child in anguish, starting to realise what could have happened in the last minute without his uncle’s intervention.

Aziraphale blinked slowly at him, and his expression softened a little even if his face reminded white as a sheet. “Normal fire is no game either, dearest. But Hellfire is highly dangerous, and should _not_ be used at leisure, especially near mortals.”

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry!” _Are you okay?_ He suddenly wanted to add. Hellfire was bad for angels, right? He remembered that now. Holy Water was bad for demons, and Hellfire was bad for angels, but Aziraphale seemed fine, and he didn’t dare check on his ethereal form in the middle of a dressing down, because touching someone else’s Grace was Not Done without the other’s consent, it was exactly like reading someone’s mind. And Aziraphale looked fine. He didn’t look wounded at all, so maybe…

“I am certain you are,” snapped his uncle, interrupting his thoughts. “But it is not to me you should apologize,” he finished sternly, stepping out of the way.

The three Them looked at their leader. He had that strange feeling of deja-vu. Only months ago, he had vowed never to put his friends in danger again…

“It’s all right, Adam,” declared Brian with a shrug. “It was pretty wicked.”

“Yeah, it was an accident,” added Wensley. “Plus we asked you to make it dance.”

“Yeah, it’s not your fault. But you shouldn’t do that again, or I will have to punch you,” declared Pepper, straightening herself and raising a challenging eyebrow.

“I won’t,” promised Adam seriously. “I didn’t know it was that kind of fire. Uncle Crowley used it, so I thought it was safe.”

“Crowley’s a demon,” reminded Brian. “Demon’s don’t do safe things. I’m pretty sure they’re punished if they do.”

“What? Of course not, that’s just stupid! They have to do normal things too, or people would _know_ they’re demons!” argued Pepper.

“I don’t think people would know they’re demons even if they always acted badly,” pondered Wensley. “I mean, adults are really useless at _seeing_ things. I don’t think they would recognise a demon even if he acted very, very bad. But they would probably call the police, so that’s not good for Hell, right? They don’t want to have all their demons in prison.”

Adam turned to his uncle, ready to apologise again, and froze on the spot. There was no angel there, but the faintest trace of a teleporting miracle. He reached out, tracing the angelic presence back to the bookshop, but met a resistance just around Aziraphale’s spirit. He was shutting himself down, firmly pushing back at Adam’s probing. The boy bit his lip as his friend’s argument faded in the background. He could get through his uncle’s shield easily, but it would be wrong. The angel was obviously very angry, and trying to hide it from him until he would be calm enough to talk.

“Adam?” asked Wensley, and he blinked as he came back to his body. “Are you coming?”

“I…” he looked from one of the familiar faces to another, pressed his lips. “Sorry guys, I have to go home. I think… I think I have to call them.”

None of his friends asked who “them” were.

“He looked pretty pissed off,” offered Pepper, never one to sugar coat it. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to call him while he’s pissed off. If he wanted to talk, he would have stayed. You’re in trouble, I think.”

“I don’t know,” said Brian, shrugging, “Aziraphale won’t ground him. He isn’t very good at grounding. Remember the day he caught us scrumping Mr. Tyler’s apples. He told us stealing was bad, and he stopped when Pepper said your mother would use it to bake a pie.”

“Yeah. He won’t stay mad if you offer him something to eat. Ask your mother to make her chocolate cake,” advised Wensley.

Adam hesitated, looking at the path leading out of the forest. Dog barked, and led the way towards the cave that the Them used as their second headquarter. After a second, Adam ran after him. He was pretty sure the Bentley would be parked outside his parent’s house when he got home. Better have as much fun as possible before that.

* * *

Aziraphale appeared in the bookshop and shut his spirit down immediately. Adam should NOT see into his mind right now. He felt his corporation shaking as he entered the backroom and stomped to the couch where his friend was sleeping under a tartan blanket.

“Crowley!” he barked “wake up! Now!”

The demon groaned and buried his face under the couch’s cushions. “M’sleeping, angel.”

“Wake **up**!” repeated the angel through gritted teeth, throwing away the blanket.

Crowley hissed and swore furiously, sitting up and baring his teeth in the same motion. “Fuck! What’s wrong with you, you stu-?” he started, opening his eyes, before stopping mid-sentence.

Something was, indeed, wrong with the angel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really, really hope to post the second chapter tomorrow, guys! I have been so LAZY these last few days, I'm ashamed of myself, truly! So I've decided to post once a day until the end of confinment, or I will end like Sleeping Beauty (only minus beauty :D )


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley has the worst waking up of his long life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, what a surprise, a third chapter!!  
> I'm sure you were all expecting it^^  
> I am hopeless, ha ha!

Crowley didn’t like to get up, and always had a hard time doing it. He’d slept through wars and thunder, and on one memorable occasion, slept through the entirety of a bombing, waking up two days later in the fuming and shattered remains of his chambers. But the sight that greeted him when he opened his eyes today was enough to have him fully awake in an instant.

Aziraphale stood stiffly in front of him, his brow furrowed, his eyes ice blue and blazing. It was, as a certain number of unfortunate humans had find out throughout history, impossible to differentiate angry Aziraphale from hurting Aziraphale, but to Crowley (and Crowley only) the difference was clear as day and he sprang to his feet with a gasp, looking at his friend from head to toes, then squinted his eyes to do the same on the ethereal plane.

“Aziraphale, you’re **burning**! Your Grace is burning!” he yelled, adrenaline promptly destroying the last trace of sleep from his brain. Only one kind of fire could burn _Grace_.

Aziraphale held back a sarcastic _you think?_ that would have been, to be fair, uncalled for.

“Yes, I am aware of that,” he managed to answer as calmly as he could. “It is Hellfire, I tried to shield myself, but it clung to my Grace and it’s… it’s gaining ground. Would you be so kind-”

The angel didn’t finish his sentence, overcome by a frantic tide of demonic power. Crowley’s spirit shot out like a jumping bean out of a frying pan and engulfed the angel’s corporation, fighting the embers of Hellfire nibbling at the golden Grace, pushing them away and trying to will them into oblivion.

Information being important, he decided here and now to remember for future instance that Hellfire, once it started burning an angel, had no intention of letting go.

“I… I am afraid you will have to be a little bit more aggressive, my dear,” panted the angel, sitting heavily on the couch, head bent and eyes closed. His Grace was linked to his ethereal body, and the burn was not pleasant at all.

“ **FUCK**!” yelled Crowley, reintegrating his corporation to help his friend lie down. “Holy fucking **shit**! Don’t move, I’ll stop it! It’s okay, Aziraphale, I’ve got it!”

He was aware he didn’t sound exactly credible, yelling madly while looking desperately around in search of a convenient Hellfire-extinguisher that didn’t even existed in his imagination, but fortunately the angel wasn’t listening, too busy passing out to answer.

Crowley gritted his teeth as his options crossed his mind in a furious parade. His first instinct would have been to call Heaven’s healer, but Hellfire couldn’t be cured, and certainly not by an angel. It wouldn’t stop until it reached Aziraphale’s core and destroyed it. Discorporating the angel wouldn’t help either, his true angelic form would only get back to Heaven and slowly finish burning there. Holy Water would NOT be a good idea. Some clever (stupid) high ranked demon had once made… experiments, and discovered that Holy Water and Hellfire loved each other approximately as much as boiling oil and water. He had received a posthumous commendation for uncovering such an important piece of intell.

A little more aggressive it would have to be, decided Crowley.

Hating himself, he slithered again into ethereal plane, cautiously grazing Aziraphale’s angelic form to make him aware of his presence. Getting smote by an unconscious angel wasn’t the clever thing to do right now.

The angel’s Grace, which was whirling and trashing in anguish, recoiled a little at the demonic touch before suddenly calming down.

Good, even blacked out, Aziraphale recognised him. This wasn’t surprising, but it was still definitely good news. Crowley was aware of a bubbling volcano full of burning feelings ready to explode at the back of his mind, but this could wait. He needed a clear mind, and emotions were not allowed at the moment.

Focused and detached, he reached for the border of an immaterial wing. Hellfire was almost reaching the first feathers. He gently touched the tip of the wing with an intangible claw, and felt it flutter almost imperceptibly.

“Alright,” he murmured, “hang on, angel. I’ll do it quick, okay?”

The claw twitched and sank into the burning Grace bordering the wing, cutting it like a scalpel and detaching a good piece from Aziraphale’s intangible body. Crowley seized it and held it at arm length, as far as possible from his friend, before summoning his own Hellfire to burn it entirely. It was not a good feeling, destroying a part of Aziraphale’s aura willingly, and he pushed it away before focusing again to his task.

After the fifth cutting-and-destroying act, there was no more trace of Hellfire, not even the tiniest spark. There were, however, five pretty big holes in Aziraphale’s Grace, but they were already closing, the divine energy remodelling to enclose his friend completely, only thinner than before.

Crowley settled back into his corporation and sighed heavily. His friend had lost a good chunk of Grace and would be tired for a while, but thankfully the damages weren’t too bad. Cutting into a wing or a limb would have been _much_ more problematic (and very painful). He ran a trembling hand through his hair, and couldn’t help but check on Aziraphale again.

Fine. Perfectly fine.

He sat on the floor and rested his head against the border of the couch, touching the angel’s shoulder, finally letting the events of the last hour catch up with him.

Some freaking demon had attacked his angel with Hellfire. Tried to _destroy_ Aziraphale. He may try to follow the angel here and finish the job.

With a snap of his fingers, the bookshop’s doors locked with bolts that weren’t supposed to exist. Another snap and ominous sigils started to glow on the walls, floor, and ceiling.

His connection with the building was not as total as was Aziraphale’s, but the bookshop was familiar enough to let him mingle his curses through its walls. He could sense the anger slowly mounting into the stones, and he smiled darkly. That was something he could relate to.

Whoever did this was _dead_. Not discorporated, no, truly and completely destroyed. He would hunt them down to the deepest pit of Hell if needed, and rip their limbs from their body one by one, make them beg for mercy and force them to drink a full gallon of Holy Water, he would-

A twitch against his head distracted him from his murderous thoughts. In a second he was on his knees, one hand on the angel’s cheek.

“Aziraphale? You’re awake?”

The familiar blue eyes opened slowly, and the angel smiled weakly. Crowley let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding.

“Hey,” he said, at a loss for something else.

“Hello, dear,” whispered his friend.

“You’re fine. I got rid of all of it. You’re all right.”

It seemed very important to make Aziraphale understand this. The bright smile widened.

“I never doubted it, dear boy. Thank you.”

 _How could you be so sure of that, stupid? I didn’t even know if I could do it!_ Thought Crowley angrily. That level of trust was not good, that’s what it was. Stupid angel. Always expecting him to do impossible things like that.

“What happened, angel? Who did this to you? Tell me who it was.”

Aziraphale grimaced and looked away. “No… no one attacked me. It was an accident. To be honest, it was my fault for not handling things differently. I should have teleported him instead of using that shield, but it all happened so-”

“What in Heaven are you talking about? What do you mean, an accident? Hellfire doesn’t just jump out of nowhere! There had to be a demon! And who where you protecting exactly?” snapped Crowley, trying and failing to stop his nails from changing into claws. He knew his teeth were sharpening in his mouth, and couldn’t care less. He would need them soon anyway, after all.

“Ah… well, about that, it… it was a human. I was protecting a human, I mean,” answered his friend, still avoiding his gaze, his hand fumbling with his waistcoat’s button.

“You’re lying,” declared Crowley, squinting his eyes.

“I certainly am _not_!” answered the angel vehemently, pushing himself up to sit indignantly.

“You’re not telling me the whole truth then. Tell me who did this to you. _Now_.”

He could see the angel’s stubbornness rising, his lips tightening, his jaw settling, his shoulders squaring. Yes, Aziraphale didn’t want to talk. Obviously, the angel didn’t want him to get on the warpath and risk his life. He could understand that. But he would get this bloody name even if he had to play dirty. He wasn’t Hell’s greatest tempter for nothing.

He got up, brushing his knees, expression guarded.

“Okay. I understand,” he said with a little sad smile that meant _I get it, you don’t trust me, I’m not mad at you._ “I’ll make you a tea, that’ll help. You’ll be on your feet in no time.”

“Crowley...”

“Back in five, don’t get up, okay?” he added, not looking at him, and heading to the stairs.

“Crowley, please come back!”

Oh, how he hated that tone. It was the puppy eyes tone. He’d always been a sucker for that one. Sighing, he turned back. The angel looked so devastated he blessed himself inwardly and joined him in two strides, sitting next to him.

“You don’t have to tell me, angel. I understand why you’re keeping it to yourself. I would probably do the same.”

The angel’s mouth tugged at the corner and his face relaxed as understanding hit him. “Well, that was quite the act, my dear. I fell for it for a second.”

Crowley waved his hand. “Naah, you almost died, you’re not yourself. Easy prey to manipulation.”

Aziraphale looked at his hands for a minute, then made a face and sighed. “If I tell you, I want you to promise me you won’t act today. That you will… you will stay here at least until tomorrow.”

Crowley frowned. Odd. Why ask something so weird?

“All right. I won’t do anything until tomorrow. Cross my black heart.”

The angel fidgeted again, shooting him a nervous glance. “Well, see, the… the Hellfire… it kind of was… I mean it was… it was Adam,” he finished in a murmur.

Crowley blinked at him, waiting for more. So Adam was there too when that demon had attacked Aziraphale, apparently. Didn’t give him the name of the sucker he had to hunt. But the angel seemed to be waiting for something, so it looked like it was his turn to speak, which meant that sentence was complete. He replayed it in his mind. Then one more time.

Aziraphale cringed inwardly as his friend took a sharp intake of breath, his yellow eyes widening abruptly.

“ **WHAT**?” yelled the demon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo.... third chapter tomorrow, hopefully!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley has an angel to take care of and an Antichrist to yell at. In that order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know I said two chapters, and now it's four, and I always do that!!!  
> It's THEIR fault! They're always talking so much! I swear, It's... (points to Aziraphale) it's HIM! Not me! (runs away)

Crowley was, for lack of a better word, completely losing it.

“Adam? ADAM was the one who did this to you?”

Aziraphale grimaced. He’d expected that kind of reaction, but had hoped to be proven wrong. “Now, now, my dear, there is no need to yell. It was an accident, and I am perfectly fine.”

“An accident? What do you mean, an _accident_? How on Earth is it possible to _accidentally_ burn your uncle to death?” asked the demon before yelling a well crafted insult at the nearest shelf.

The angel _tsked_ , shaking his head. “Really, you are overreacting, Crowley. Adam only tried to summon some Hellfire, and it got out of hand, that is all. He didn’t know the thing could be so dangerous.”

Crowley let out a dark laugh. “Oh! Oh, he didn’t _know_! Well, that’s all right then! If he didn’t know, no reason to get mad, then! Well he bloody _did_ know what Hellfire does to angels! He knew _that_!”

“My dear, _please_ , calm down. I really do not like to see you so upset.”

The ‘please’ at least got to the demon, who stopped pacing and yelling for a second to look at his friend. His mouth snapped close on another string of profanities.

“You look like shit, for someone who’s _perfectly fine,_ you know that?” he growled angrily.

“I assure you, I feel absolutely tickety boo… only a mild migraine, maybe. Nothing too dreadful.”

“I’ll make you some tea,” hissed his friend darkly. “You stay here. Don’t you dare get up, Aziraphale, I’m serious!”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, my dear fellow,” answered the angel with a reassuring smile.

Crowley frowned, but let it go, stalking out of the room stiffly, and Aziraphale sighed. “Oh, dear… this is not good at all.”

At least he still had the rest of the day to try and smooth things over before Crowley headed to Tadfield and said something he would regret.

Sighing again, he closed his eyes and tried to forget his pounding headache. Flames flashed before his eyes, and he opened them with a start to find himself facing a very tight-lipped demon.

“Here,” grunted Crowley, pushing his usual winged mug into his hand. “Drink.”

“Thank you, dear boy,” he answered, taking the beverage in both hands to ground himself.

“You alright?”

Crowley’s expression was unreadable behind his sunglasses.

The angel nodded, and took another sip, hoping the questions would wait at least until he’d finished his tea. He knew they had to talk, of course they had to. He needed to explain what had happened _exactly_ , but couldn’t think straight with that dreadful migraine and words were escaping him at the moment. His friend seemed to understand and sat down on a chair, his fingers twitching on his knees, before brusquely standing up to pace in front of the fire for a few minutes. Aziraphale looked at his mug blankly, his mind empty. Crowley’s voice had him startle and splash his hand with lukewarm tea.

“Want something to eat?”

And even with this level of tiredness, he could hear the concern in his friend’s voice. Well that wouldn’t do.

“No, thank you dear. I think I only need to rest a little and get rid of that awf- of that headache.”

“Hm… ah, yeah. Yeah... course, angel. Just, let me...”

Fluffy cream coloured pillows appeared under Aziraphale’s head as his friend helped him settle down. A snap and a tartan blanket was covering him as gently as falling snow.

“T’s okay, angel, just sleep it off. It will all be much better in the morning,” murmured a soothing, tempting voice.

“Not morning. Just need.. a nap. Wake me up in...”

“You need to rest, Aziraphale. Rest will help you get better. I’ll worry if you don’t get better, you don’t want me to worry, right?”

Of course not, he didn’t want that at all. Aziraphale mumbled his assent.

“Very good. I’ll put a spell on you now, okay? To help you sleep and heal, okay?”

Aziraphale tried to fight the exhaustion. There was something he needed to do first, he was fairly certain of it. Talk. Yes, talk about Adam, and calm Crowley…

“Talk... we have to...”

“That can wait, angel. Let me put you to sleep first. Please?”

Crowley hated to beg. This was a low blow and they both knew it, but Aziraphale was way too tired to fight. “All right… you menace,” he relented.

Cool fingers brushed his forehead, and he barely felt the familiar rush of his friend’s demonic miracle.

“Sleep, and dream only of good things, Aziraphale.”

Crowley watched his friend fall into a deep, restful slumber, then straightened up and took the angel’s mug to wash it. Aziraphale wouldn’t wake up for at least two days, not with the miracle he’d put on him.

He looked at the old clock near the desk. He’d promised to wait until _tomorrow_ before going anywhere, after all, and he wouldn’t break a promise to Aziraphale. Two in the afternoon. Ten hours to wait. Maybe a little more, he reflected. The Youngs wouldn’t like to receive visitors in the middle of the night. Eighteen hours, then. He could wait.

Eighteen hours, then he would ride to Tadfield and have a conversation with the Antichrist.

* * *

Adam woke up with a feeling of dread. It was not a usual feeling at all. He’d only felt that way the few mornings before Armageddon, and never since, but today was different. He knew perfectly where this was coming from. His uncles hadn't come the day before, and it was _scary_. They should have at least _call_ _ed_. Yelled at him. He remembered very well their last “adventure”, and the way Crowley had freaked out about the angel’s injury. Aziraphale had tried to soothe him, had said “Oh, please calm down, my dear. It isn’t like they used Hellfire.”

The demon hadn’t liked that at all. Had barked “Don’t you fucking joke about that!” and uncle Z had apologised, not even reacting to the “f” word.

So Adam knew Hellfire was not something Crowley would just sweep under the rug. There would be a reaction.

He took a quick breakfast and headed out. It was still early, and the Them usually gathered around nine on week-ends, but his friends were already there, waiting for him near his father’s car.

“Hey guys. You’re early.”

Pepper shrugged. “We were all up early.”

Wensley nodded seriously. “Yeah. I forgot to pull the curtains yesterday, and the sun woke me up.”

Brian looked at him with a frown. “Really? But we decided to come here early so Adam wouldn’t be alone when Crowley arrives to shout at him. You should have set an alarm, Wensley. You’re lucky you forgot the curtains.”

Pepper sighed, Wensley rolled his eyes. Adam didn’t smile, but he felt something warm ease the tightness in his chest. “Thanks, guys. You’re great.”

Pepper rose an eyebrow that was stating that _Yeah, obviously_.

“Did you have any news? Did they call?”

Dog suddenly barked three times, watching the road. The Them turned to follow his look. A familiar black car was speeding in the distance, barely avoiding a wandering sheep that suddenly find himself two yards away and kept grazing, unfazed.

“I guess news is on the way,” declared Wensley in an ominous tone.

The Bentley screeched to a halt, and the window opened. Crowley looked at his Godson over the rim of his glasses. “You. Get in.”

Pepper glared, crossing her arms. “He’s not going anywhere without us.”

The demon snarled. “What, afraid the big bad demon will kill him and get rid of the body in the moor?”

Wensley paled. “There’s bodies in the moor?” and Crowley frowned, his brain reminding him that scaring eleven years old innocent humans was more douche-bag behaviour than demonic one. The boy took a step back, and Crowley felt even more stupid.

“That’s not very clever,” interjected Brian. “You can’t kill Adam, we saw you. You would have to kidnap all of us because we’re witnesses now. Plus, Adam is stronger than you. And you’re too nice to kill him anyway.”

“Rude,” murmured the demon to the steering wheel. “Okay, hop in, you stupid kids. I don’t want to yell in front of Adam’s house.”

They all got in the car, the boys in the back and Pepper sitting in the front with a challenging glare at Crowley. She obviously wouldn’t let her friend near the demon as long as he was so clearly pissed off. That girl, thought the demon, not for the first time, reminded him very much of a certain Principality sometimes.

Adam spoke as soon as the car started to move. Since the Bentley had stopped, he could only think of one thing. Aziraphale wasn’t there. The angel always accompanied Crowley in the Bentley. Always.

“How is uncle Aziraphale? Why isn’t he with you? Is he hurt? Did I _hurt_ him?”

“Of course not,” lied the demon immediately. He was still very angry, but wouldn’t let guilt settle in his _bloody_ _stupid_ Godson’s mind. Guilt wasn’t for children. “He was just… I took care of it. He’s just very tired. Will take a few days to get better.”

Talking of his friend’s state reminded him how fucking pissed off he was at the culprit. The angel didn’t even eat, for Satan’s sake! He didn’t remember last time Aziraphale had said no to food, but this was NOT something he liked to hear. “I had to put him to sleep and come here behind his back. Because he wouldn’t let me yell at you and you _deserve_ a good yelling at.”

Pepper snorted. “Behind his back? I guess Adam is not the only one that will get yelled at today.”

“Ngk,” said Crowley, his hands twitching on the steering wheel. He’d tried very hard not to think of that.

Adam didn’t talk, reaching out to his angelic uncle. He was resting, that was true, but his Grace was very weak. Blinking back tears, the Antichrist suddenly realised he _had_ hurt one of his favourite people. And hadn’t even realised it until now. He was the worst Antichrist in the world.

“I know I deserved it. I deserve to be punished,” he said guiltily, reigniting the demon’s ire.

“You’re blessed right you deserved it! What in _Heaven_ were you thinking, you stupid brat? Summoning _Hellfire_? Then calling the _angel_? Are you out of you mind? We bloody _told_ you the thing could kill him!”

“What?” asked Pepper in a trembling voice, her bravado crumbling suddenly.

Crowley frowned, looked at her, and pulled over in the middle of nowhere.

“Alright. what’s going on here? And don’t lie to me, I invented lies!” _Sort of,_ he added silently.

“It… it could have _killed_ him? I didn’t know!” cried the girl. “I called him, it was _me_! When the fire attacked Brian I called like you said but I _swear_ I didn’t know he could _die_ -” the words were rushing out, Pepper getting more frantic by the second. Crowley suddenly felt like she was going to discorporate on him.

“Oi! Wow, just… calm down, kid! Shh, just breath, t’s all right!” he urged in a panic, his hands hovering, wondering if petting her hair would help her or if she would bite his arm off.

Better not take the risk, decided the demon, letting the child calm down. Silence reigned in the Bentley, who had cautiously turned the radio off as soon as the yelling had started. (Bentley knew when to shut up. _This_ was a good time to make herself scarce).

“All… right,” started Crowley slowly. “So… _you_ , Adam, summoned Hellfire. And _you_ , Pepper, called Aziraphale. Is that right?”

Both children nodded.

“Oh,” breathed the demon, processing. “Oh that’s… that’s good. That’s really really good.”

“It’s not good! I didn’t do a thing! I didn’t even think of calling you! I could have stopped it myself and I didn’t!” reminded Adam, feeling wretched.

Crowley waved it away. “Everyone has a right to panic a little from time to time,” he declared magnanimously, perfectly aware that Aziraphale would have snorted had he been there. “It’s stupidity I can’t abide. So you lost your footing. That’s okay. And Pepper, you didn’t know Hellfire could hurt the angel, so that’s all right too. You acted very smart, actually. Probably saved Brian, so don’t sweat. You should be proud.” He lowered his sunglasses and eyed Adam in the rear-view mirror. “You shouldn’t.”

Silence settled once again, and Crowley sighed, wondering what to do with all these angry feelings now.

“You should have known better than summoning Hellfire. Don’t do this again unsupervised, kid,” he added sternly, summoning the remains of Nanny Asthoreth.

“I’ll never do this again,” declared Adam. “I don’t want to touch it ever again.”

Crowley opened his mouth, but Wensley beat him to it. “That’s not very smart, Adam. You should learn to control it. Practice is the only way to true self-control.”

“Plus,” added Brian, “It’s wicked.”

“How did you even think of doing this?” wondered the demon. “I never showed you how to do it. You weren’t ready yet!”

“I…” Adam blushed. Pepper raised an eyebrow, looking the demon in the eyes.

Crowley suddenly had the nagging feeling this answer was not going to be pleasant.

“Oh, _fucking shit!_ You _saw_ me!” he realised, remembering. “ _Satan’s bollocks,_ you saw me and decided to try it on your own? Are you completely _insane_? Had I jumped off a cliff, would you have done the same?” yelled the demon, on a rant.

“That depends. Does he have wings?” asked Brian. Everyone looked at him.

He shrugged. “What? Crowley has wings, he _can_ jump off a cliff. Does Adam has wings? Cause, you know, if he has, he can jump too, so… that’s not really a good example.”

And that, thought Crowley, speechless, pulling out and making a U-turn, was that.

“You’re not out of the woods yet, kid,” he drawled, trying to repress a smile as a truly demonic idea hit him. “I’m going to talk to your parents. You’re coming back with me.”

“There’s school tomorrow,” pointed Wensley, frowning. “My mum said missing school could impact my whole life.”

“Well maybe Adam should have thought about it before trying to transform Brian into a human torch,” answered the demon, honey-voiced.

Brian nodded happily. He liked the Human Torch.

“You,” declared Crowley, pointing his thumb at Adam over his shoulder, “are going to take care of Aziraphale as long as he’s recovering. You remember how he is when he’s sick, right?”

Adam paled. He did remember.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully, next chapter will be the (real) last^^  
> For that story, I mean.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale finally wakes up, and discovers that Things have happened during his nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it! See? NO MORE CHAPTER!!  
> I feel so proud...

The first half of the ride was silent, Crowley looking ahead, jaw set, and Adam lost in his thoughts, not daring to break the silence, his only consolation the familiar feeling of _love_ emanating from the car. Bentley would never take sides against him.

Dog had whined for a while, making his best puppy eyes at the demon who was so cross with his owner, but had finally realised Crowley probably had a strong resistance against those and could only be affected by a true master, which he wasn’t. So the Hellhound finally gave up and wiggled his way to the back seat where he curled with a satisfied sigh.

Adam shoot a wary glance at his uncle. Obviously, he would have to be the one to talk first.

“Um… is… is uncle Aziraphale alone?”

Crowley made a face. That was low, accusing him of leaving the angel completely defenceless in his weakened state (which he did.)

“Yeah. Why? Who do you think will dare hurt him? Hmm? Heaven is terrified of him now they know God punished the Archangels for trying to destroy him, and Hell hasn’t sent a demon up here for the last two weeks. Your spell’s still active, right?

Adam nodded seriously. Since Hell had tried to kidnap him, he had kept close tabs on every demonic incoming, and warned his two Godfathers every time. Appearing in front of a fussy angel armed with a bottle of Holy Water tended to scare the… Heaven out of anyone.

“No demon tried to travel to Earth in twelve days,” he confirmed. Crowley nodded and relaxed a little.

“Anyway, I didn’t leave him _unprotected_. He’s in the bookshop, and I've put wards. I can teleport there if needed,” he added a little defensively.

Adam decided not to answer this; he was in enough trouble with the demon already. The boy didn’t think for a second that he abandoned Aziraphale in a time of need or something like that, but Crowley was very good at jumping to conclusion.

The Antichrist looked through the window. Still ten minutes before arriving home… well, arriving to the bookshop, he rectified to himself with a pang of guilt. How come Tadfield and Aziraphale’s bookshop felt the same to him after so little time? Better not think about it.

He turned to look at his uncle seriously, tilting his head with a concentrated frown.

“Do I have wings?”

Crowley’s lips twitched, before settling back (with some effort) in a sharp line.

“No. You don’t have _wings,_ ” answered the demon with all the seriousness he could muster.

Adam brooded for the rest of the ride.

* * *

Aziraphale opened his eyes slowly, his mind completely blank. He felt his chest constrict for a second, panic rising in front of all the usual questions. _What happened? Why am I here? Where?_

Sleep, he realised rapidly, grimacing. It was sleep. He closed his eyes for a minute, breathing in the familiar scent of his beloved bookshop. There was a reason he never liked the activity. Feeling lost and insecure, deprived of his knowledge and faith, even for just a moment, was terrifying.

Reaching out, he felt the soothing hum of the building, Crowley’s wild maelstrom of energy upstairs, the Bentley’s bright feeling of innocence, and… he opened his eyes again, focusing on the blurry shape right next to his face.

“Hello,” said Adam, weakly.

Aziraphale blinked, his foggy mind clearing rapidly in front of the boy’s wariness. Memories flooded him and he sat up in a blink, eyes widening.

“Oh, goodness! What did Crowley tell you?” He clumsily got to his feet, and raised his voice. “ **Crowley!** Crowley, come here this instant!”

The demon appeared in front of his friend, head shooting from side to side, eyes darting in search of a threat. “What? What?” he asked frantically.

“Adam is here,” pointed the angel needlessly, clasping his hands in front of his stomach. “Would you be so kind as to explain to me how this happened exactly?

“Hm… gh… aaaah...” answered the demon.

“You _promised_ me, Crowley!”

“I waited a day! I didn’t lie!”

“Oh, you… you...” Aziraphale’s mouth contorted around some words that were very eager to get out and crushed them into oblivions. Then the angel turned around anxiously to face a slightly flustered Antichrist.

“Did he yell a lot?”

“Ha, no. Not really, no,” stammered Adam. The concern disappeared in Aziraphale’s eyes, and he pouted.

“Of course he didn’t. That demon is always too soft with children,” he huffed, trying to pretend he wasn’t relieved.

“You would have said I’m too mean if he’d answered otherwise,” mumbled his friend.

“I certainly would have! I am quite put out with you,” declared the angel, crossing his arms and ostentatiously looking the other way. Crowley rolled his eyes.

“All right, if you’re able to complain it means you will survive. I’ll go back to my cooking if that’s okay with both of you. Adam, you stay here with your uncle.”

The angel gasped. He may have been weakened and still a little foggy from sleep, but he certainly wasn’t slow on that kind of uptake.

“Am I Adam’s _punishment_ , Crowley?”

The demon looked at him innocently, his expression clearly stating _I have no idea what you’re talking about, angel._

Aziraphale was incensed. “I _am_! You… do you really think it is such a chore to watch after me when I’m sick?”

“Of course not, angel. You’re a real lamb. _Of course_ it’s no punishment. Thought that since Adam was the one to hurt you he should be the one to help you recover. Learning to take responsibility and all that...” assured Crowley placatingly.

Aziraphale raised an unimpressed eyebrow. He wasn’t deluded about his obnoxious behaviour while on the mend. They both knew the demon’s last sentence was one of the biggest lies that ever left his mouth.

The angel tapped his lower lip with a finger, then nodded. “Yes, yes I believe you are right, my dear. This is quite an excellent lesson. I am awfully ashamed of myself for accusing you like this. I hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me.”

His friend cocked his head and lowered his glasses, taken aback. Their eyes met. Aziraphale smiled sweetly, eyes twinkling. Crowley beamed.

“No problem, angel. Already forgotten. I’m gonna finish my crepes, now. Hope you’re hungry!” he added over his shoulder as he took the stairs to the second floor.

Adam watched his uncles bicker, waiting for an opportunity to apologise to Aziraphale. He didn’t have the time yet, and he felt like it was the least he could do. Watching the demon disappear up the stairs, he took a deep breath and turned to the angel.

“Oh, _crepes_!” exclaimed the Principality with a delighted wiggle, sitting in his favourite armchair. “I am _famished_! Crowley’s crepes are always so _scrumptious_ … I imagine this will take a while… Adam, dearest, could you bring me a book? Any book will do, I only need some light reading… no, not this one. Oh, and a blanket, if you would be so kind? I feel a little chilly… oh no, child, not Oscar, this is anything but light! Did I hear something about a tea? I am pretty sure I did… whenever you’re not otherwise occupied of course… I can wait, there is truly no rush, only I feel a little parched… I guess that fire may have dehydrated me a tad...”

This, thought Adam while dog curled on Aziraphale’s lap with a happy groan, was way worse than being grounded for a month.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your lovely comments and support! I love you all, dear readers!!!  
> Next story will be a one shot. NO WHUMP this time, I promise^^


End file.
